The Play's The Thing
by SuperMegaFoxyAwesomeHot
Summary: Nerd!Kurt is a TA this semester in Blaine's Shakespeare class. Blaine can't say he's disappointed in this. (Bonus Hummelberry friendship!)


**I really needed more nerd!Kurt in my life, what can I say?**

* * *

"Kurt...Kurt..._Kurt Hummel_," the professor repeated irritatedly, snapping Kurt out of his early morning stupor.

"Wh – yes, sorry, sir?" Kurt said, blushing. Daydreaming wasn't really how he was planning to start his first day as a TA.

"Pass out the syllabuses as I begin the class," Professor Stevenson ordered, pointing to the stack of papers on the table at the front of the room. "And then send around the sign-in sheet. I'm not going to waste my time taking roll with a class this large."

"Yessir," Kurt said quickly, hustling to the front of the room to grab the class info. He easily fell into the rhythm of counting out syllabuses and handing them down the rows, flinching slightly when a hand entered his personal space as he hit the last row.

"Oh, I can already tell this class is going to be better than I expected," the person attached to the hand said.

Kurt just squeaked.

_Holy crap, he's gorgeous! _He thought as he got a good look at the boy. Rat Pack-esque black hair, big hazel eyes, and an easy confidence all had Kurt speechless and frozen as the boy grabbed a syllabus off the small pile Kurt had left.

"_Midsummer Night's Dream...Othello...Much Ado..._oh, _Coriolanus_, really? That's gonna suck," the boy rattled off. "I might need a little _extra help_ in your office hours for that one."

"Th- that could probably be arranged," Kurt managed to say, a bit flustered because _oh my God did he just _wink _at me?_

"Hummel!" Professor Stevenson roared from the podium. "How long does it take to pass out some syllabuses? Get back up here and send around the sign-in sheet!"

Kurt let out a quiet "Coming, sir!" and powerwalked back to the pad of legal paper he'd left at the front of the room. He nearly threw it at the girl sitting in the first row before slipping into his seat at the back, right next to _that boy._

_That boy _was apparently named Blaine Anderson, according to the (neatly written, large) signature on the sign-in sheet. Surprisingly, Blaine didn't try to flirt with Kurt throughout the class period, instead taking careful notes in his binder as Professor Stevenson blasted through the syllabus and got right to work on _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, the first play they were going to cover that semester. Kurt only half-listened to the lecture, already familiar with the content but wanting to know how Stevenson planned on teaching it.

As the class began filing out of the room, Kurt stretched back in his chair, reaching his arms behind him and accidentally knocking his glasses off. He flailed a bit and sat up straight again, trying to see where they landed, when suddenly he felt a body getting closer to him and something coming toward his face and-

Oh, he could see again. Kurt blinked a couple times, bemused, as Blaine let out a soft chuckle.

"You are adorable, has anyone ever told you that?" Blaine asked, giving Kurt a brilliant smile.

"Not that I can recall," Kurt said. He winced as realized how dumb that might sound.

"Now that I find hard to believe," Blaine said. "Hey, what are your office hours? Stevenson didn't put them on here, and I'd like to be able to find you again."

"Uh, Mondays and Wednesdays from three to five," Kurt said, forgetting for a moment because of Blaine's captivating eyes.

"Perfect," Blaine said, writing it down on a blank spot of the syllabus. "Absolutely perfect." He winked at Kurt again and headed out of the room, bending over to grab his bag in a way that Kurt could only assume _had _to be on purpose with the way it jutted his ass out.

"Oh my God," Kurt breathed the second Blaine was out of earshot, slumping down in his chair. "I need to text Rachel."

* * *

Kurt got as much intel as he could from Rachel over the weekend to prepare himself for Blaine's inevitable appearance Monday afternoon in his office.

"Blaine Anderson," Rachel read, staring down at the tiny screen of her phone. "Junior, musical theatre major with a solid background in straight plays, gayer than an episode of _Queer as Folk_."

Kurt choked.

"Wow, my minions are really editorializing," Rachel said, unfazed. "Anyways, that's the basic info I could get from the NYADA gossip chain. Need anything else?"

"No, if I hear anything else like that, I won't live to see Monday," Kurt said, still coughing tea out of his lungs.

"I can't believe that you get to TA the class full of hot upperclassmen while I'm stuck in Intro to Dance with Crazy Cassie," Rachel said, plopping down next to Kurt on the couch. "Granted, Cassie's not as awful anymore, but I'm about to slap all of the barely-legal little freshman boys who keep trying to cop a feel through my leo."

"Maybe Madame Tibideaux is trying to apologize for not letting me in on my first go," Kurt joked, letting Rachel move in for a snuggle. "God, what if I make a fool out of myself on Monday? What if Blaine doesn't even show?"

"Babe, from the way you said he was flirting with you, he'll probably get to your office before _you _do on Monday," Rachel said. "Hell, if you aren't going out with him by semester's end, I'll turn down my spot in the Winter Showcase."

"But you haven't even been inv-"

"Shh."

"But-"

"Drink your tea, Kurt."

* * *

Kurt fidgeted through his one o'clock class Monday afternoon, bolting out the door at two-thirty and nearly running the entire way to his office across campus. He ducked into the nearest bathroom to his office to check his hair before calmly walking out and unlocking the door like normal, a little dejected that Rachel was wrong and Blaine wasn't already waiting there. He busied himself with the reading for his Sondheim's Life course until a knock on the doorframe nearly startled him out of his seat.

"Blaine!" he gasped after seeing who had arrived.

"Good afternoon, gorgeous," Blaine said, taking a seat in the only other chair in Kurt's tiny office and setting the coffees he'd brought on a stack of books on Kurt's desk. "Sorry I'm late, but I was dying after Professor Logan nearly bored me to sleep in Theatre History earlier, and I couldn't possibly be so rude as to come here without a coffee for you, too. Here."

"Thanks," Kurt said softly, taking a sip. "Wait, this is-"

"Your usual? I asked the barista at the Starbucks in the lobby what you normally get. I've seen you studying there a few times, so I figured it was probably a safe bet." Blaine took a big draw of his coffee and let out a content "aaah."

"Blaine, you have to let me pay you back for this," Kurt said, reaching for his wallet. "Starbucks isn't cheap, and you got me a venti!"

"Nope," Blaine said. He leaned forward and grabbed Kurt's wrist, stroking gently with his thumb. "My idea, my treat."

"O-okay," Kurt stuttered, thrown because of Blaine's warm hand on his own. "But don't think you can buy a good grade this way."

"Damn, you foiled my plan," Blaine teased. "Guess I'll have to resort to Plan B: seducing the professor."

"Oh my _God,_" Kurt said, nearly snorting coffee out his nose. "Please don't ever give me a mental image like that again."

"What, the ancient, cranky grandfather type doesn't get you going?" Blaine asked. "So _picky_, Kurt, but I suppose I can avoid telling you my sordid fantasies."

"Please do, or I'll be forced to fail you, and then where would you be?" Kurt joked, finding it surprisingly easy to just banter with Blaine.

"Throwing myself on your mercies, probably. Or maybe just throwing myself on you, period." Blaine eyed Kurt up and down.

Kurt choked, feeling a blush stain his cheeks.

"God, you're cute. Anyways, I really did come here for a reason," Blaine said, shifting the topic. "That big Shakespeare festival is coming up, and I've been working on a monologue for my audition, but I think I could use some advice. Could I speak it for you and get some feedback?"

"Yes, of course," Kurt said. "What did you have in mind?"

"I know it's not super original, but I was working on Romeo's monologue from Act II," Blaine said, leaning in. "I figure that it'll be so basic-"

"-that no one else will do it?" Kurt finished. "I'd agree with that assessment. You'll have to make sure you're really on your game, though – the only thing worse than an unoriginal monologue is a subpar unoriginal monologue."

"That's what I was thinking," Blaine said with a nod. "Want me to just go for it and see how it turns out?"

Kurt nodded and gestured that the floor was his – not that there was much floor. He got up and moved Blaine's chair back behind his own desk once Blaine was standing, noticing that Blaine smelled like good cologne and coffee as he got close. "Ready when you are," he said, taking a seat on top of his desk.

Blaine took a deep breath and began.

"But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?  
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.  
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,  
Who is already sick and pale with grief,  
That thou her maid art far more fair than she:  
Be not her maid, since she is envious;  
Her vestal livery is but sick and green  
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.  
It is my lady, O, it is my love!  
O, that she knew she were!  
She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?  
Her eye discourses; I will answer it.  
I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:  
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,  
Having some business, do entreat her eyes  
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.  
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?  
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,  
As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven  
Would through the airy region stream so bright  
That birds would sing and think it were not night.  
See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!"

Kurt unconsciously leaned his cheek on his hand in the same manner, caught up in Blaine's expressive acting. He could see Blaine go from cautious to bold and back again in a matter of seconds, and Blaine's eyes were practically golden with their love-fueled glow. He was zealous. He was handsome. He was on fire.

_Is that what he looks like when he's in love in real life, too? _Kurt wondered idly, barely hearing the last two lines.

"O, that I were a glove upon that hand,  
That I might touch that cheek!"

At that, Blaine walked forward and laid his big, warm hand on Kurt's cheek, breaking from the actual staging of the play. He set his other hand gently on top of Kurt's on the desk. "Well?"

"You've got nothing to worry about," Kurt said, practically sighing.

"It was romantic enough?"

"It went above and beyond enough."

"Enough that I could do this?" Blaine leaned in close to Kurt, leaving only a fraction of space between their mouths.

Kurt didn't bother responding, deciding it'd be more worth his time to just kiss Blaine like they both so obviously wanted. They kissed for what felt like the rest of the day, Kurt's arms going around Blaine's neck and Blaine's around Kurt's waist, until they finally had to breathe.

"That answer your question?" Kurt quipped breathlessly.

"You _will _go out with me tomorrow night?" Blaine responded, looking hopeful.

"No," Kurt said. "I'll go out with you right now. After all, Romeo and Juliet didn't have very much time, did they?"

"Seeing as we both managed not to die at fifteen of star-crossed, tragic love, I think we've already got them beat," Blaine said, stepping back to let Kurt off the desk before offering him his arm.

"You've got a point," Kurt said, linking his arm with Blaine's. "You weren't really going to need my help with _Coriolanus _after all, were you?"

"The only help I was planning on needing was help getting you to go out with me. I can't say I'm disappointed that it was easier than I was expecting."

"Neither am I," Kurt said. "Don't think this means I'll help you cheat in the class, either."

"Please, sweetheart, how am I supposed to impress the hot TA if he feeds me all the answers?" Blaine asked, winking playfully.

"I can think of a few ways," Kurt teased as they waited for a cab. "Where to?"

"With you? Anywhere."


End file.
